


In a Perfect World

by AniPendragon



Series: Interlocking Existence [3]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Gen, Implied Attempted Suicide, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, discussions of self-harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-01
Updated: 2014-09-01
Packaged: 2018-02-15 19:27:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2240685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AniPendragon/pseuds/AniPendragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because sometimes, people want to help, but sometimes you aren't ready to take it yet. The world is cruel, and Blake Belladonna no longer sees its beauty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In a Perfect World

**Author's Note:**

> Third RWBY fic. This one centres around Blake and Ren. Takes place in the same night that "Setting Him Straight" does. Written September 1st, 2014. As always, reviews are greatly appreciated.

The stars were especially bright tonight against the black of the midnight sky. The shattered moon, turned so it was almost whole, stared down mockingly at the exhausted Blake Belladonna. She rested her folded arms on raised knees and stared out at the world. Here, perched on a section of roof that few could reach, Blake was finally alone. Oddly then, that she no longer was sure she wanted to be alone.

Roman Torchwick was out there, he and whoever he was working for. The White Fang, that Neo woman, and everyone else he was working with – all of them stood to destroy Vale, both the city and the kingdom, whenever they wanted. Coupled with the distinct feeling that there were traitors at school, and the knowledge that the White Fang had started murdering those who had left, it was no wonder Blake hadn't slept properly for quite some time.

She closed her eyes, hoping to catch a few moments of stolen sleep amongst the hidden portions of Beacon's roofs. Images of Torchwick, the Paladin, the strange mirror with the woman, and the White Fang swam before her mind's eye. At the centre of it all was Adam, maskless for once. _"You betrayed us,"_ he said. _"You betrayed me."_ Abruptly, Blake's eyes snapped open. She groaned and rubbed at them with one hand, trying not to notice how red and ragged her nails were.

"Pardon my frankness, but I've seen road kill in better shape." Blake jumped. In her tired state she felt her shoulders shriek at the movement and she hissed, rubbing at them. Lie Ren sat down next to her, silent, but now noticed. How long had he been standing there? Blake had no idea. She was losing her senses more and more every day. It was a wonder she hadn't been dragged into an alleyway and murdered yet.

"In all honesty, though, Blake, you really do look terrible," said Ren.

Blake scowled at the city she could see in the distance. "I have more important things to worry about at the moment."

"Like Torchwick."

Blake jerked around, her eyes widening as Ren's words processed. "You know." It wasn't a question. His eyes flicked to her bow, almost mockingly. And that made Blake's blood boil. She knew Weiss had told, Jaune was a terrible liar and Pyrrha a worse one. But she had hoped – hoped against hope – that they wouldn't use it against her.

"What are you looking at?" she snapped, lips curling back into a snarl. Ren jerked back, his own eyes wide. "Why can't you all just leave me alone?" She made to stand, to get away from Ren and his gaze, but toppled forward. There was a split second of midair weightlessness, of staring down, down, down into the forest below. Then a hand caught her wrist, hauled her back up, and dropped her neatly on a blanket that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. Ren dropped down beside her, frowning.

"Blake, when was the last time you slept?" His voice was concerned, his eyes sympathetic, but Blake smelled pity. Ren pitied her. Yang pitied her. Everyone pitied her.

"You all must think I'm so pathetic," she said, scowling. "Poor little Blake, fighting demons that don't exist. Well they do, and if no one else wants to stop the world from mass destruction, so be it." She wrapped her arms around her knees.

"Don't you think you're being a little over dramatic?" asked Ren.

"No!" said Blake. It came out sharp and angry, almost a snarl in her frustration. "Torchwick is planning something, and he has help. Why else would he be working with the White Fang? They hate humans." She put her hands to the sides of her head and groaned. "None of this makes any sense and I can't figure out his plan."

Ren reached out, but his hand stopped a few inches from her arm, hovering. "Have you tried asking for help? I'm sure the others-"

"Yes!" Blake pressed her palms into her eyes and hissed in frustration. "But they just don't get it, Ren. They want to go to dances and talk about boys and do homework. There's no time for any of that. Torchwick is planning something, and if it's on a large enough scale to steal all the dust in Vale, then it's going to be bad. Really, really bad." Blake leaned back and stared up at the night sky, blinking back tears. She made herself stare at the moon so Ren couldn't see the tears in her eyes.

"Professor Ozpin?" offered Ren. "What about him? What does he think?"

Blake scowled, her lips curling back and her nose and forehead wrinkling. "Professor Ozpin wouldn't know trouble if it shot him in the foot and stole the clothes off his back," she snarled. Out of the corner of her eye, Blake saw Ren's eyes grow wide. His mouth opened and closed a few times as he tried to find a response. Finally, he said,

"Fair enough." Then he sighed and tugged his fingers through his hair, which was oddly down at the moment. "Blake, I know you've probably heard this a hundred times, but you shouldn't work yourself into the ground chasing Torchwick."

"He's planning something," protested Blake.

"I know," said Ren. "I believe you, okay? I believe you." Blake felt a weight lift off her chest at that. Ever since their first discovery, the girls had brushed off Torchwick as being done. They claimed she was chasing ghosts. And it hurt. It hurt more than she had thought possible. Hearing Ren agree with her, hearing him say she wasn't chasing ghosts, that helped, even if only a little.

"But I need you to listen to me for a second," Ren continued. Blake looked at him, blinking back tears of exhaustion that had bubbled up in her eyes. She nodded. "Torchwick is planning something, yes. But you cannot fight him alone. I know you think your friends aren't taking you seriously, but they probably are. They're good people." Ren shook his head. "Maybe they have a point, maybe you need a break."

The anger hit her like a truck. "I do not need a break!" she shouted, standing up. She stumbled, caught herself, and scowled. "I need to find Torchwick and stop him before he hurts anyone else."

"You're going to get yourself killed," said Ren bluntly.

"Fine! I'll get myself killed. If it means protecting the people of Vale then that's a small enough sacrifice to make!"

"It's not just about protection, is it?" asked Ren. Despite her shouting, his voice hadn't changed in the least. "It's about revenge. It's about obsession." His voice dropped until only Blake's faunus hearing allowed her to hear his next words. "It's about finding a pain you can control, instead of resisting the pain you can't."

Blake's legs trembled and she sat down next to Ren gingerly. "What do you know about pain like this?" she asked.

Ren cracked a sad smile and unbuttoned the sleeve of his shirt. He rolled it up to the elbow. From his wrist to halfway to his elbow were faded, horizontal, white scars. "More than you think," he replied. His voice was soft and vulnerable, his expression openly worried and pained.

Blake didn't have a response to that.

"So maybe you aren't doing the same thing," said Ren. "Maybe your harm isn't as easy to hide or as easy to notice. But it's still self-harm, Blake. You are purposely hurting yourself with the knowledge you are doing so. And why? To control something." He looked her in the eyes. "You're controlling the pain you cause yourself while you fight a pain you can't."

"I can't stop fighting," said Blake. "I just can't." Ren nodded, though he visibly deflated as she spoke.

"Why?" asked Ren. And it was the first time someone had actually asked her that.

"Because if I don't, no one else will. Because if I don't, then Torchwick and the White Fang win." Her hands clenched into fists, what was left of her nails dug hard into her palms. "Because the White Fang has hurt enough people, and I won't let them hurt anyone else."

"Okay," said Ren. And his voice was soft and sad. "But don't let it go too far. Don't let yourself get caught up in pushing your limits. Don't let yourself fall off the edge." He reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder. His hand was warm against her shoulder. She shivered. She hadn't realized how cold it was up here until Ren's warmth started to seep through her.

"What happens then?" She was afraid she already knew the answer. Without a word, Ren looked over the edge of the roof, then back at her. Blake sucked in a breath. "Did you…" It was too awful to think about.

"Tried to, once."

"What stopped you?"

"Nora." His lips twitched. "It was always, Nora, who brought me back from the darkest depths of my own mind." His hand flexed on her shoulder. "Find something to be your anchor, Blake. If you can't stop fighting, then find someone to fight you on your behalf. If you don't." He shook his head. "Well, that's not the most pleasant thing to think about." Unbidden, images of golden hair and concerned looks swam up in Blake's mind. She shook them off, frowning.

"And if I don't?"

Ren stood. "Then I guess we find out if cats always land on their feet." And then he was gone, disappeared in the shadows of the roof and presumably headed back to his dorm. Blake let the reference – or pun – she wasn't sure what it was, rest at the forefront of her thoughts for a moment. Did cats always land on their feet, she wondered. And would it matter if she was this high up? Blake sighed and stared up at the stars. The Seven Huntresses, fashioned in their seven pointed star, gleamed back at her, watchful as ever.

Ren was wrong. She didn't need anyone's help. She could do this by herself. If her friends – if her own _partner_ – wasn't going to take this seriously, then she didn't need them. The thought drove a painful spike into her heart, but she shoved it off. School didn't matter anymore. Her team didn't matter anymore. All that mattered was stopping Torchwick and the White Fang, before the people she used to call family destroyed everything. And if she had to go down in the process, well.

So be it.


End file.
